


Let me sleep || Ghostmyers

by GlitchyWorld324



Series: Ghostmyers fics [1]
Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Danny is His Own Warning, Danny loves to be kissed by Michael, Danny won’t let Michael sleep, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Michael kicks Danny out of the bed, Sleepy Boys, Sleepy Cuddles, Sleepy Kisses, he also loves being manhandled by him too, hint of sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:22:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27714026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlitchyWorld324/pseuds/GlitchyWorld324
Summary: Just something cute and cuddly with a poor attempt at humor- also because there’s a severe lack of Ghostmyers fics(I suck at summaries)
Relationships: Danny "Jed Olsen" Johnson | The Ghost Face/Michael Myers, Ghostface (Scream)/Michael Myers
Series: Ghostmyers fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2026985
Kudos: 54





	Let me sleep || Ghostmyers

The room was dimly lit save for the light flooding in from the window across the room. My body was positioned outward from the bed, facing the wall beside the bed while a much bigger body laid beside me.

The slow and even breathing coming from the other let me know that he was fast asleep and that any movement or noise from my part would stir him wide awake, and given that my partner rarely slept, it made staying silent and still as possible a top priority in bed.

Carefully, and as slowly as possible, I peered over my shoulder at the other. Laying next to me on his back was Michael Myers, the so-called Boogeyman of Haddonfield (or the Shape as I’ve heard the survivors call him). Michael was a tall man for only being 21 years old, standing about 6’8”, he was inhumanly strong (to the point where I believe the Entity had to handicap him), good looking with- or without the mask, and his silent personality just made him more attractive to me.

I held my breath as I slowly rolled over onto my side, now facing him, my eyes wandered up and down his body, taking in his side profile that was illuminated by the street lamps, watching the way his chest rises and fell with each deep breath he took, and how he looked so peaceful while he slept.

Normally, when awake, he would have a stoic and hardened look underneath his mask, but when he’s asleep, his expression was much softer looking, his face relaxed and looking absolutely lovely under the orange lighting.

I trailed my eyes down to his lips, biting my own when I saw how they were parted slightly. His lips weren’t the softest like mine, they were chapped and he was naturally rough when it came to kissing me, but sometimes he would just press them against my neck or cheek, breath in the cheap cologne I always wore with his arms either wrapped around my waist or having them pull on my shroud with insistent need.

His rough treatments never bothered me. In fact, I’ve noticed that he’s recently been more gentle with me whenever it came to us having sex or just having a sloppy make-out session in the middle of the woods where anyone could come across us, and it was sweet to see how he had almost became hesitant towards wanting to hurt me, but to say I didn’t love to look over the bruises I would have on my arms or legs, the hickies that would litter my body and small cuts from his blade was what made me so obsessed with him as if he was a drug I just wasn’t willing to quit (among other various things).

We both trusted each other, sure for Michael it took longer to gain his trust, but nowadays when we are alone, he barely wore his mask around me, even now in bed (which wearing his mask to bed was as ridiculous as it sounds), I could allow my eyes to map out his face, the way his brown hair curled in different directions but were long enough to partially cover his eyes, the long scar that ran down his right eye that made his once light brown eye now have a grey filter on it, and the way his face was paler than any other part of his body.

He never spoke, though from what I’ve picked up he knows how to, just refuses due to the treatment he was dealt with at the age of 7 all the way to the age of 21 at that sanatorium. Perhaps if that Loomis fellow didn’t fuck up so badly then Michael would’ve spoken and explained why he had killed his sister, but explaining why he’s done something so terrible wasn’t exactly his forte. Sometimes I hear him make little noises to indicate when he’s annoyed or exhausted, a little grunt or groan from him (sometimes drawn out if I ignore him for too long), or even a small sigh before wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into a tight hug.

Any other noises he made were short and quiet- almost easy to miss due to him not trying to announce anything or linger on the fact he made a noise (which I learned quickly that he disliked being told his had made such a noise), it was seemingly random whenever he made those noises, sometimes he would just be standing somewhere and make a small squeak before wandering off, as if telling me he was leaving, and other times he’d make them in his sleep, but those little ‘squeaks’ were more vocal and sounded gravely (which made sense due to the lack of using his voice for years).

I learned that Michael did know sign language as he was forced to learn it by the doctors at the sanatorium, but due to his lack of participation, they had believed he didn’t learn anything (which was quickly proven false given that Michael was a visual learner), and even now, he rarely used it. The only few times he used it was when he was explaining something to me, which luckily I had taken a course in sign language and that had made it easier for me to understand him.

Back to the present, I found myself a little closer than I would have expected to the others face, my lips just a few inches away, barely ghosting over Michael’s own parted lips, all I had to do was lean in a little more and-

I let out a surprised gasp when Michael’s arms wrapped tightly around my midsection, pulling me onto his chest while his arms tightened around me, his features hardened, obviously showing that the slight touch had woken him up.

“Michael-“ I croaked out, squirming in his grip, “Boo, it’s me..!”

I watched as his only good eye peeked open, the orange light from outside making his eye shine and twinkle as he stared me down before he let out a scoff, releasing his harsh grip on me and rolling onto his side, bringing me with him so that I was trapped against his chest as he pushed his face into my hair, taking a deep inhale before pulling away and resting his head on the pillow while his arms were still wrapped around me.

“I didn’t mean to wake you up.” I whispered to him, pulling my arms up so that I could return the odd hug, my left hand moving up to brush against his bangs and moving them out from in front of his eyes.

He still had one eye on me, obviously displeased that his sleep was disturbed. I gave him a small smile, I shuffled forward, crawling up until my face was leveled with his, “you know I didn’t mean to, I know how important your sleep is, but I couldn’t help it. You looked so precious like that, Boo.”

Michael responded by staring at me for a moment (I could sense the mental eye-roll however) before leaning forward, capturing my face with one of his warm, callous hands as he connected our lips together, it was nothing more than a short kiss, but it was all I needed as he pulled away, tiredly looking up at me as if to ask if that was enough to make me sleep.

“Maybe,” I cooed, smiling wider when I heard a grunt come from him and watching as he closed his eyes, “just one more kiss.. please?”

Michael didn’t respond as quickly this time, his fingers drumming against my back, a sign showing that he was thinking as he pondered if he should give me another kiss and hope that’ll satisfy my hunger for his attention or just throw me off the bed and have me sleep on the floor for tonight (which sadly the latter has happened way too many times to count).

It was no surprise that the moment he opened his eyes I was suddenly pulled over him and then landed on the hardwood floor. An exaggerated sigh escaped from me as I stared up at the ceiling before a pillow and a thick quilt fell on top of me, covering my face.

“You could’ve just signed ‘no’..” my muffled voice came from under the quilt before I pulled it off of me, sitting up and peering up at Michael, only to see his back turned to me, showing that he was going to sleep with no regret towards throwing me ass first to the cold floor.

Grumbling to myself, I grabbed both the pillow and quilt, pushing slightly away from the bed (just so Michael didn’t accidentally step on me when he got up) I settled myself in the middle of the room, using the large quilt to wrap around me fully, keeping me from touching the cold floor as I settled myself down and proceeded to stare out the window, eyeing the stars that the Entity had managed to copy over from our world.

Part of me wondered if those were actual stars or if it was just some sick illusion that the Entity had manifested from everyone’s memories of the night sky, but even then I wasn’t going to complain, it’s not like it mattered if they were real or not. Closing my eyes, I had to force myself to try to relax, not wanting to be the first to be thrown into a trial when the grace-period was over.

“Night, Michael.” I called out, not expecting a response, but it was still nice to hear another grunt come from the other to notify that he was telling me goodnight as well.


End file.
